


A Daytime Story

by Wolfgang von Cemetery (enemy_xands)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: wrestlingkink, Fluff and Angst, Gift Giving, Jealousy, M/M, Massage, Masseur Dean, Office AU, Rimming, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemy_xands/pseuds/Wolfgang%20von%20Cemetery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's a little rough looking, but he knows his way around a deep tissue massage as Roman Reigns finds out...and an hour long massage session leads them both on the path to romance. </p><p>Just kidding, they're awkward dorks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Session #1

**Author's Note:**

> Not a new fic, this began life as a kink meme prompt fill [here](https://wrestlingkink.dreamwidth.org/279.html?thread=368663#cmt368663) and I shoved it into Heist Compendium, but I realized it's really too big to be there and kind of deserves to be its own man--er, fic. 
> 
> I ran away with the original plot and this basically became "What if Ambreigns was a shoujo manga??" So this is the tankoubon version with a bonus omake!

It was so damn cold over the little row of cubicles that Roman half expected snow to rain down on his computer. He stood up and stretched. Time for another break, to rest his eyes and his throbbing arm. He unwrapped his wrist stabilizer and headed for the break room.

His carpal tunnel had flared up big time this week, a combination of longer hours and humidity. Ick. Ibuprofen and naproxen were only getting him so far. The stabilizer helped but limited his mobility, not the best option for a position focused on production and typing.

He stood at the single serve coffee/tea creature and waited on his Colombian to brew while he took his ibuprofen with some warm water. Plus his damn cubicle was cold. He'd talked to IT Dude #1 Bray about it but the man had shrugged and said it was for the computers. Just wear a parka. Bray didn't realize Roman would take that seriously.

Paige From Upstairs came in from the left, yawning. Roman thought her elegant panda eye make up was gorgeous.

"Morning," she muttered.

"Morning. Shift giving you heIl?"

"Nah, I just need my ten o'clock cuppa." As she waited for her brew she asked, "Arm still giving you hell?"

"Yeah. Sucks a lot." Roman held the piping hot cup, willing his numb and swollen fingers back to life.

"You know, if you knew you had CT why'd you accept this job?"

"College ain't gonna pay for itself," Roman said with a sigh. "And I hoped it would be low physical stress."

"But what about the rest of your life!" Paige suddenly yelled dramatically. Roman clutched his chest and stood back.

"Um, I'll be so rich I won't have to worry?"

"No, no, wrong answer." Paige giggled and covered her face. "I'm trying to get you to see a masseur."

Roman made a face between disgust and skeptical. "The hell. I ain't got time for massages. Too busy grinding."

This cracked Paige up more. "Well even _shotcallers_ need spa days every now and then, eh?"

Roman laughed so hard he thought he would never stop. "Did--you--just say--shotcallers in 2015?"

Paige rolled her eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

"Nobody says that!"

"I did! When you're done bellylaughing, will you just go?"

"I can't stand, I can't move."

"Roman! A massage or a chiropractor will do you some good, all I gotta say. And I know a guy with a discount."

Roman finally straightened up and wiped his eyes. "Okay, okay. Who is the guy."

"His name is Dolph, he runs a shop downtown. He's offering one hour free but if you mention my name, you can get 20% off your next hour."

"Hmm. Is he high?"

"Runs about average I think. Just make room for it! If you hate it you don't have to go back."

"Deal. Now if you don't mind, my break is over."

Roman returned to his cubicle to clack away the rest of his shift. IT Dude #2 and his secret cousin Jimmy popped over an hour later to chat.

"On break?" Roman asked, not looking away from the screen.

"Suuure." Jimmy was draped over the lower cubicle wall in a way that made Roman think of a sloth.

"What up?"

"Nothing. I see you got ya lil cast on still."

"Shut up, man, and rub my back."

To his surprise, Jimmy started rubbing little circles on his back. He must have been practicing on Naomi.

"Doesn't your insurance come with chiropractor visits?"

"Why are you looking at my insurance! Paige gave me the hook up on a massage therapist."

"Ooh! Get you a cute lil masseuse bae."

Roman snorted. Jimmy muttered "see ya" and went back to his little IT zone.

When his shift was over, Roman pulled his backpack out of his desk drawer and locked up to head to his Calc II class for the evening. That he's only taking because he's an overachiever. But Wednesday is his no-class day, so he got directions from Paige to go hunting for the alleged massage parlor tomorrow.

The next day, Roman hunted for a little joint called Relax and Rejuvenate. When he finally got there, the parking was plentiful and the inside was cool, thankfully. There was a receptionist's desk and a blonde pretty thing at the helm, and behind her was a section cut off with a bead curtain. A tasteful bead curtain, but beads.

"Hello!" she greeted with a heavy, sexy accent. "Welcome to the massage parlor. I'm Lana, how can I help you today?"

"Do you guys do walk ins?" Roman did his best puppy in pain eyes. "I got a real bad shoulder problem."

"Oh, you poor thing. We certainly can get you seen quickly. Can I get your name?"

"Roman. Reigns."

Lana took Roman's name down on a notepad. She then picked up a clipboard. "I'll just need you to fill out this health history paper work for me, first."

Roman nodded and took the paperwork to a little plastic chair in front of the glass windows. Even though at this point holding a hard pen in his hand was painful and absolutely sucked, he filled out all the required paperwork quickly and legibly...he thought. He took it back up to Lana a few minutes later and she blinded him with her smile.

"Thank you. I'll page Dr. Ziggler for you."

Lana picked up her phone and dialed Ziggler's extension. She muttered for him to report to the front desk and a few minutes later, a man that looked better suited for Baywatch bounded from behind the curtains.

"Heya! I'm Dolph!" Dolph vigorously shook Roman's good hand. He grabbed the paperwork from Lana but didn't bother to look at it. "Come on to the back."

Dolph led Roman behind the beads and into a hallway with four doors. They stopped in front of one of them and Dolph stood back to talk quietly.

"So I heard you have a shoulder problem? Nerve pinch?"

"Carpal tunnel," Roman said with a somewhat exaggerated wince. "Left hand."

"Ooh, yikes. No surgery?"

"Not yet, just trying to see if homeopathic measures will work first. Oh, Paige sent me."

"Damn!" Dolph raised his fists skyward and shook them. "Did she mention the bet I lost?"

"No...?"

"Oh, good. Well, first hour is free and that recommendation gets you 20% off your next visit. And you will be back." Dolph's toothy grin was that of a shark's. "Now, to address your needs I'm going to set you up with our newbie Dean. Don't be scared, he looks like a hungry orphan but he's very competent."

Before Roman could ask what the hell that meant, Dolph disappeared into room number two for a bit. He heard things moving around and clanking, and hushed voices, and then Dolph came back out with a towel.

"Okay, he's getting set up in there for you. Go on in."

Roman nodded and slipped into the room, the door shutting behind him. He couldn't hear it outside, but in the room there was a very...dark, ambient music playing. Not the generic slow jams he was expecting. He shivered a bit as he looked around. There were assorted dark colored crystals and stones, black candles on warming pads that gave the room a heady scent. From the back, Roman heard some commotion and he awaited the god of massage that lived in this lair.

What came out was a little...different. Dean, his masseur for the afternoon, was a little gaunt. Tall. He had scraggly light colored hair and a nervous face with eyes that refused to look at him, at first. His slim fingers systematically pushed the crystals back and turned off the candles and music.

"Sorry, someone else uses this room too. What do you like to listen to?"

"Um, anything!"

Dean nodded absently and queued up some easy listening. His head was still down and Roman hated that.

"I'm Roman. You're Dean?"

"That's what my name tag says," Dean said dryly. He perched on a stool next to the massage table, eying the clipboard in his hands. Roman could see that he had a cute face with cloudy eyes, but he still refused to look the other man directly, choosing to rest on random objects in the room like he wasn't all there. Dean reminded Roman less of a hungry orphan and more of the jittery dudes that hang around outside the plasma clinic.

"So what's your damage?"

"My damage is my arm. Er, shoulder. The whole damn thing."

"Numbness, tingling...?"

"My fingers feel like voodoo dolls that someone stuck little pins in."

Dean snorted. "Fuck man, that was graphic. Okay, lay down face up. Shirt off if must." 

Roman settled for rolling his sleeves up and rested himself on the table. Dean was busy grabbing some oils that smelled like mint and almond and he brought them over to the table. Roman noted that his skittering eyes matched his jagged movements, like a man trying to be graceful during an earthquake.

"CT massages are easy but you have to make them regular or you won't get better," Dean muttered. When he hovered over Roman, he had no choice but to look at the man dead on. They locked eyes for a brief moment before Dean cleared his throat and sat down.

Roman sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I dunno if I can make this a regular thing, I have shit to do you know?"

"You're gonna have a hard time doing your shit with one arm." Dean pushed Roman's sleeve as high as it would go. "You work out or somethin'?"

"Or somethin'." Roman flexed and grinned. "You like what you see over there?" 

Dean didn't say anything and just took Roman's hand gently. He pressed a spot on the palm between the index finger and thumb, and rubbed gently in a circle first. Roman flexed and almost felt like pulling away, until Dean started kneading his arm with his finger tips. He moaned, really loud and surprisingly lewd. The feeling of release down his arm felt like his nerve endings were singing and frolicking in a field like Disney movie and he went limp as a rag doll in his masseur's hands. 

Dean was quiet as he drizzled almond oil over the other man's knuckles and rubbed each finger methodically, releasing all the tension in Roman's grip and easing his circulation.

"It's really erotic when anyone does that, I guess."

"W-what?" 

Dean jolted a little and sat upright, still kneading Roman's fingers but now less methodically and more like he was trying to distract himself. "What's that?"

"You know when girls do that on the first date and it means..." Roman smirked and let his meaning settle in. "I thought it was just girls, it's guys too." 

Dean tried to come up with a quick quip or a "I wouldn't know anything about that", but the banter was not coming to him when his client was looking at him with _actual bedroom eyes_. Instead he swallowed and faked a curt laugh, then tucked his head down again. 

They went back to a silence that wasn't uncomfortable but not exactly comfortable either, with Dean kneading away and now running straight strokes with two fingers up and down Roman's forearm. Roman moaned a little quieter this time when Dean started massaging his shoulder and tickling his fingers back up to his wrist. 

"That feels _really_ good," Roman said. "I should have done this shit sooner."

"Yeah...oh. Sorry for swearing, even though you did too. I just felt... really..." Dean searched for the word mentally. "Open with you? I felt like I could cuss?" 

"You can cuss around me, I don't care." 

"I actually can't because my boss said I can't, but...fuck it." Dean laughed a little uneasily; Dolph had a habit of popping up out of the ground when he least expected it. But with Roman over here he felt a little braver. 

"So, besides being a gym rat, what else you do?"

"Data clerk. College. Sports."

"What you study?" 

"HR." 

"Oh. Is that...interesting?" 

Roman shrugged with his one shoulder. "I feel like it suits me. I like figuring out people's problems and fixing them, keeping things in order."

"You look like that type." 

Roman grinned a toothy grin. "I've never been told that before. Is that...good?"

"Uh, yeah." 

Dean silently worked Roman's arm and elbow until his egg timer went off. He hopped off the stool and let Roman sit up by himself, still flexing and smiling at his newfound mobility.

"Shi--I mean, wow, I feel so good right now, I could cry." Roman made a show of fake sniveling.

Dean's lips twitched into an uncertain smile. "Thanks. That makes me feel good...about massaging, I mean. Like. No one really compliments me?" 

"Well, they suck." Roman stood up and swooped his arms up into a big stretch. "Thanks so much, man."

When Roman held his hand out for final handshake, Dean cupped it and started kneading again. It was like a nervous tic and Dean was staring at his fingers like they held the secret to something.

"Um. When you get home, try pressing each finger to your thumb like this." Dean demonstrated by pressing his index, middle, ring, and pinky fingers to his thumb in quick succession. "1, 2, 3, 4. Try doing it for like five minutes. Eases tension in your hand. Uh."

"Okay, I'll do that." Roman tried it himself and felt the tightness in his hand loosen up a bit. "Oh, that works."

"Yeah. So. See ya." 

Roman nodded and left the room. He didn't realize how cold it was in the hallway and how stale and clinical it smelled. Business was picking up a bit with a few people waiting in the lobby and Lana quickly jotting down names.

"Ah, Mr Reigns! Did you enjoy your visit?" 

"Yes ma'am, I sure did. I think I'm gonna like it here."

Lana chuckled. "Let me get you a glass of water." 

She went through the beaded curtains and off to the left. A few moments later, she came back with a large plastic cup of room temperature water. Roman took it and gratefully drank it down.

"Slowly, slowly!"

"Mmm?" 

"Too fast and it will make you sick," Lana said, laughing. "Try to give yourself a few moments to relax after you leave."

"Oh, I'm not busy today so that won't be a problem. Have a good day."

Lana waved him off and Roman headed back for his car. When he slid in and shut the door, his head dropped against the steering wheel like a bag of bricks.

He smelled like almonds and scented candles. He flirted with another man. He felt overwhelmingly mobile in his arm now but knew it wouldn't last, like the first hit of a drug. The thoughts that he usually escaped by talking aimlessly crashed down in his head because he didn't have that respite with Dean, and yet he already wanted to go back and figure out what the other man was hiding from him.

"What the hell happened in there?!"

~~~~

"I got a body for ya, newbie. Don't fuck it up."

Dolph was not a mean guy by any stretch, but a little insensitive at times (Dean heard that crack about hungry orphans). And contradictory. How come he couldn't cuss but the boss could?

Dolph slid the paperwork over to him and started doing prep work. "Big guy, looks like a damn Greek god."

Dean read the patient's name out loud. "Roman...Reigns. Is that a family name?"

"When you see him you ain't gonna care. If I wasn't straight as a rod I'd fuck him."

Dean threw the clipboard down. "Christ, Ziggler! I hear you with Titus and Lana all the time, who the hell are you kidding?"

Dolph pursed his lips. "I said I'm straight, I didn't say I was in a straight relationship. Oh, use the mint oil, works nice for CT."

"But almond oil won't make you smell like chewing gum."

One of Dolph's quirks was nitpicking massage oils that were only for decreasing friction. Dean personally hated mint and felt like a good number of people did too so he tried not to mess with it, but Dolph kept touting its healing properties. Drove Dean nuts, but to please him he pulled out a massage oil blend.

As he leaned over to reach the bottom cabinet, he said, "Help me clean up a little, would ya?" By the time he raised up again with towels and a large robe, Dolph had flitted back outside. Dean ground his teeth.

He heard the door open and close. Great, his patient was here and his space was a mess. He hurriedly gathered his things and shut the annoying space wave music off on his way out.

"Sorry, someone else...uses this...room..."

Dean had been told all his life that he naturally had an intense resting face, and he used that trait now to stare at his client. He had never seen "tall, dark n handsome" so literally personified before. His cousin's bratty, adorable voice snaked into his brain.

_"And here we have the rare Hunkasaurus Rex"_

He shook his head vigorously and sized the man up more objectively. He wore a dress shirt so he was some kind of professional, well-toned so he had time to take care of himself. Hair past his ears meant business casual so not high level. Deduction: college student with part time job.

"I'm Roman, by the way. Dean?"

Dean straightened; how had he forgotten to introduce himself? "That's what my name tag says," he quipped, and was really glad when Roman laughed and didn't call him an asshole. The warmth in the laugh made Dean feel a little more open. This guy was around his age, after all, he could cajole without worrying about stepping on toes or too many late 80s early 90s cartoon references flying over anyone's head.

He planted himself on a stool, scanning his clipboard for details. "So what's your damage?" he asked. He knew exactly what it was, but it was often better to hear from clients in their own words. Plus, he just wanted to hear Roman talk some more.

Roman described at length a classic tale of long term CT, caught before it became a chronic problem but nothing is going to make him better until he does it regularly. He noticed Roman wincing whenever he had to lift his arm; Dean hated to see his clients in pain

"Make yourself comfortable right here. Shirt off if you must." To Dean's disappointment, Roman declined.

The tension in the other man's arm told a story of long shifts doing stationary work and over exertion, over the course of years. He was so warm and his pulse was strong against Dean's sensitive fingertips. He had strong hands with nimble fingers that he couldn't help but knead and tug over and over, releasing the pain and tightness.

And yet. And yet. "So you work out or something?"

Roman smirked, sharing the irony. "Or something."

Motherfucker still made time for weightlifting. Dean had to smile at that.

Judging by the groans and sighs Roman was making, Dean assumed he was feeling pretty good. And Dean was feeling very warm in the pit of his stomach and he might need to cross his legs soon.

"That's pretty erotic."

Dean glanced at Roman's face to see him peeking up through half kidded eyes. Erotic? He had to get this man out of here before this turned into a bad porno.

When the massage was over, Roman sat up and stretched with renewed vitality and glow. That was what Dean loved to see and Roman really deserved it. Their session was almost over but his mind was already working overtime for ways to prolong it. Roman had already exposed him as a terrible conversationalist, but an old nugget from his guitar teacher (one of his many childhood careers) came to him in this great time of need.

"Um. Try pressing your fingers to your thumb like this--1, 2, 3, 4. Relieves pressure." That sounded so stupid but it really did work. He hoped Roman didn't think it was stupid. He watched him press his fingers together with a look of curiosity.

"Oh, that actually works. Thank you."

Dean hadn't really gotten his dismount together--that is, his farewells--so he muttered some gibberish and shoved Roman out. Once his client was gone, he pushed the door closed with his back and slid down to the floor in a ragdoll heap.

A few minutes of aimless staring, he felt someone trying to open the door. Then felt someone ramming the door, sending him skidding a little and then scrambling to his feet as his boss and office space neighbor, Cesaro, flew through the door.

"Is it steamy in here or is it just me?" Dolph said, fanning his face. He was stuck under Cesaro who didn't seem interested in getting up off him.

"Christ. Ziggler," Dean ground out. "I have paperwork to do."

"Okay yeah, but first: deets?"

"Routine CT massage, advised him to do so regularly. Nothing abnormal."

"Is that why it sounded like you were filming a porno in here?" Cesaro chimed. Dean's face reddened.

"He's just--really vocal! Go away!"

Cesaro finally got up and pulled Dolph to his feet. Dolph, ever the show off and salesman, was already slobbering with excitement.

"You gotta milk that connection, man! Next time we'll send him into you again, you cinch the deal. We need a regular customer to start making some dividends!"

Dean worried his lip but was otherwise silent. Yes, he wanted Roman to come back. Come back to him, specifically. How could he "cinch" that? He didn't like the way Dolph was winking at him, but sometimes the man wasn't wrong...


	2. Session #2

Periodically, Roman found himself pressing his fingers against his thumb while he was working.

It had been a week and some change and everyone had taken their turns poking fun at him and his new massage boo. Especially Jimmy. Holy hell, Jimmy wouldn't stop. This week he was too busy to see him in person, so he had taken to harassing Roman via secure email.

_you got an appointment with baebae? >:)_

Roman thew his head back and laughed, partly out of incredulity and partly because he was going to body slam that man. But his arm was starting to act up again, maybe it was time for another appointment anyway. Dean had made him feel so good he was scared he would become reliant on it. He flushed a little to think how wanton he sounded last time. He'd keep it cool this time, no matter how cute his masseur was or how susceptible to teasing. 

On his break, Roman did a quick internet search for the parlor's office number. 

"Thank you for calling Relax and Rejuvenate! My Name is Lana, how may I help you?"

"Heey Lana, it's Roman from a while ago."

"Roman...ah yes, Mr. Reigns! How are you feeling?"

"A lot better, but I could stand for another appointment." He grinned. "Is my dude Dean available anytime soon?"

"Hmm, let's see..." Lana cleared her throat and Roman heard the soft noise of papers being flipped too close to the receiver. "Dean might be booked up, he's become surprisingly popular as of late."

Roman's heart dropped a little. "Oh, well, I mean...it could be anyone else, it's just that..."

"Hold on a moment." 

There was a little chatter over the phone between Lana and someone that Roman couldn't hear as well. He heard Lana say his name presumably to the question of "who is that?" There was a silence, and then someone bellowed from far away.

"I'M AVAILABLE!"

Lana moved back to the phone. "Looks like Mr Ambrose just cleared up some space in his busy schedule. Does tomorrow work?"

Roman chewed the inside of his cheek. Tomorrow really didn't work, what with class and all, but. He had a few extra days stored up to miss. Maybe he could get Dean to write him a sick note. It counted as a medical necessity, right?

"Sure, tomorrow works perfect." 

Roman finished setting up his afternoon appointment and hung up with a grin. A few minutes later, Paige From Upstairs passed below him on her way up the stairs to her office.

"Roman, why are you hiding in the stairwell?"

Roman's grin got bigger and goofier. "It's a secret." 

Paige got infected and started grinning too. She crouched down and whispered loud enough to still echo in the hallway. "What is it? What is it? Promotion?"

"Nope. Going to go see my new friiiiend."

"Oh! The masseur? What did he...do to you?"

By now both their faces were hurting from poorly contained laughter and glee. 

"I don't know. I dunno. I think I have a crush. I get them ridiculously easy." 

"Awww!"

Roman uncurled his legs from under himself and stretched out. This wasn't doing his back any favors but that would just mean more for Dean to work out for him. "Something about him, man. He doesn't talk much but he just stands there and looks cute...and his has the hands of the gods."

"That's a good boyfriend. If he's straight send him my way."

Roman nodded. "I'll ask."

"I think you out class me, though."

"Well..."

The two went back to giggling, with Paige's echoing downstairs as she headed back for her office. Roman rubbed his face vigorously to clear up any lingering redness and leftover tears, and went back to his cubicle to finish up his last few hours strong. 

~~~~

Lana smirked over her monitor when Dean came in the office the next morning.

"Good morning."

Dean raised an eyebrow and shrugged off his bomber jacket. "I don't...like how that sounded."

"Dr. McDreamy, PhD is coming in later this afternoon, aren't you excited?"

Dean quelled himself a little into a passive shrug. "It's great that he came back, glad I could help him."

Lana rolled her eyes. Dean thought he was being a cold tough guy with a hard facade but he was really just a warm, see-through cinnamon roll. 

"Well, I emailed an appointment schedule to everyone...who can competently use a computer, so yours is on your desk."

Dean bristled. "Thank you."

"As our fearless leader would say, don't fuck it up." 

Dean scoffed and swung his jacket over his shoulder. He headed back to his shared room to clean up and get his day started, a little shock of anticipation pricking his fingers and arms.

Roman checked in for his appointment later that afternoon so that he had plenty of time to do his preliminary paperwork. He turned it in once he was finished and waited, twiddling his thumbs and trying to pretend he didn't feel a tingle of excitement.

Lana leaned over her desk and periodically spoke to him like a carnival hypeman.

"You ready for Dean?" Her grin was all teeth and so infectious Roman caught it clear across the room.

"Yeah. I mean, he's a sweet kid. A little rough looking, but nice."

"Once he is out of his shell, he is very nice. I remember when he first got here, all he had was his associates degree and the coat on his back... Dolph gave him a place to stay and a job, called it paying it forward."

Roman hummed with surprise. "Oh, I had no idea. So he was homeless?"

"Yes...I do not know the circumstances," Lana continued, thumbing through her appointment book as she spoke. "But we didn't ask and he never looked back. We are very proud of him. I'm glad you're his friend now."

Roman self-consciously sat up straighter. He felt like he'd been brought home and introduced to mom and dad. Were they really friends already? Did Dean even like him that much? But learning a bit about Dean overcoming his hardships warmed his heart and made him a little proud, too.

"I'll go see if he is ready," Lana said. Time was creeping towards his appointment slot. She got up, adjusted her skirt, and headed past the bead curtains to the back.

Roman busied himself with some National Geographic magazines from the coffee table. By now his face was tingling--he really did have a hopeless crush on the man, he was gripping his fists to retain feeling in them and to get rid of his butterflies. He hated when he got this way, he was prone to excessive flirting and assorted goofy shit.

The worst, though, was the comedown. When the hot affair burned out and he was left wondering what he ever saw in his target, leaving them behind to collect themselves quietly like it never happened and he moved on, then moved on, then moved on again.

He didn't want to do that to Dean at all.

"He's ready," Lana said from behind the beaded veil. Roman got up and followed her but his feet clearly already knew where Dean's rented space was.

"In you go," she said and pushed the door open.

Inside, Dean looked to still be setting up but his space was a little more spartan this time. There was music drifting from his mini-speakers but it was soft and sounded like poppy 80s synth jams. Dean must have read his mind because he reached over and shut it off.

"Requests?" he asked with an uncertain laugh. Then, he wrung his hands and looked down. "Thanks for coming back to see me. You're my first return."

"Good," Roman said with a smirk. "Can't have any competition for your attention."

Dean's smile was surprisingly coy and he leaned in so close Roman could feel the tip of his nose brush against his cheek. It sent a chill down his spine, but just as quickly as the moment happened it was over, broken up by Dean's inelegant gigglesnort. Roman looked for... _something_ in Dean's hooded eyes staring downcast at the floor, any indication that it was okay to be bolder.

"Shirt off if you must." Dean said simply, not looking up.

"I think I will, this polo is kind of stuffy."

"Okay. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Dean disappeared into his sectioned off office space, where Roman could see a computer covered with a thick sheen of dust. Perhaps Dean was a tablet-type? The door closed softly and Roman was left alone with a surprisingly scratchy towel and a ho-hum terry cloth robe.

Roman unbuttoned his shirt and quickly stripped it off, folded it neatly so he never had to iron it ever again, and set it to the side. Unsure of how the robe thing worked or how be was supposed to put the towel on--like a cape maybe?--he laid down and figured he'd let Dean handle it.

As promised, Dean came back ten minutes later on the dot, clipboard in hand.

"So you say it's in your neck now too?" Dean halted and stared at the shirtless sight before him and hoped his dreamy sigh wasn't audible.

"Yeah, the left side. Feels tight, right here." Roman demonstrated by poking around his sternomastoid area. "Why you staring, bro?"

"I'm sorry, I was...looking at your giant tat, holy shit." Dean circled around and lifted Roman's arm. "It's like one of those native Hawaiian pieces! Is it finished?"

"Just about. And I'm part Samoan, by the way."

"Oh, cool! Do you speak, like Samoan?" Roman's head flipped over to give Dean a look that seemed to say, _everybody asks me that, please leave me be_. With a pink flush, he slinked back around muttering, "Backing off now...backing off."

Dean took a few minutes to warm his hands up before placing them gingerly on the afflicted shoulder.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Hey, no boring dad rock. Just talk, okay?"

"Umm, okay. How was your day?"

"Pretty good, I skipped class to be here so be grateful." Roman laughed a little. "I'm kidding, but I really did skip."

"Oops, that no way to act for a future manager."

"I know, I know, but I needed it," Roman said in a fake whine. "Hey, how was your day?"

"Okay, hasn't been that busy for me so far."

"Do you like to be busy?"

"I think I prefer it to being stagnant." Dean winced when loudly popped one of Roman's joints. The other man didn't bat an eyelash. "You?"

"I like busy but not busy-work, which unfortunately my job is intent on doing." Roman rolled his eyes.

Dean grinned and started dragging his knuckles up and down Roman's arm and kneading. "That's what I like here. Everything is meaningful, even the busy work. I really owe Ziggler everything."

Roman nodded, reflecting back on his previous conversation with Lana. "I'm glad you're doing what you enjoy."

"Mmhmmm. Thanks for being quiet this time." Dean playfully slapped Roman's side. "My neighbors thought something most untoward was happening."

"Of course I'm quiet, I'm not a virgin anymore."

Dean threw his head back and laughed uncontrollably. "No! Get out of here!"

"That's what it is, isn't it?"

"I'm glad I could be your first, sorry you weren't mine." Dean smiled so hard his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth a but and he gave Roman's wrist a good firm squeeze. "Maybe in something else."

Roman wiggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated motion. "Okay, but don't do anything until you ask me first."

After their giggling died down the two of them went into a comfortable silence. Dean continued kneading Roman's hands thoughtfully, working and stretching his fingers and pressing gentle but firm fingers around his carpus area. Roman felt like he was melting with relief and drifting off on tiny clouds made of ticklish cotton.

"Ow, my nipples."

Dean almost kicked his own stool from under himself. "I-I'm sorry?"

Roman jolted. "Did I say that out loud? I didn't say anything."

"Is...the towel irritating your nipples?" Dean wasn't sure if he should be mortified or laugh like a jackal, but he reached down to move the towel around. "Just move it out of the way."

Roman wiggled along with him until his nipples were just poking out from under the towel and brushing against the fiber ever so gently. Maybe it was outside, maybe it was within himself, but there was definitely now a current of awkward tension in the room that was quickly hurtling towards becoming sexual. 

Fifteen minutes. Just enough time to save this appointment.

"Uhh, hey, tell me a story."

"A story? About what?"

"Make something up! I bet you know cute stories." 

Dean laughed. "Okay...oh, this is something my lil cousin was reading yesterday. So one day, a young girl goes to the sea to find a mermaid because she heard mermaids cry tears of pearl 'n stuff, and if you make a mermaid cry the pearls will bring you luck in love."

"Wait. You have to make a mermaid cry so you can fall in love?"

"Shut up! So she finds a mermaid, but the mermaid is like, 'I've been alive so long it's very hard to make me cry!' and the girl doesn't really want to, but she tries for seven days straight. She tells the mermaid all kinds of sad stuff and the mermaid never cries because she's seen it all, you know? 

"So one day, the girl gives up. It just so happens on that day, a boy finally asks her out. The girl goes out with him 'n stuff for a while, but she doesn't love him. So one day the boy tries to make a move on her, and the girl pushes him away like 'no, creep!' and runs off back to where she found the mermaid. And she finds the mermaid surrounded by pearls."

"She cried!"

"The girl asks what's wrong, and the mermaid said, 'I was so sad that you left me for another boy because I liked you, and when you left I just started crying!' So the girl lets the mermaid keep her pearls and they live happily ever after together. The end."

"I... didn't expect such a sweet story from you."

"Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises." Dean got up, letting his hands linger against Roman's palm for a minute. "The moral of the story is, I'm the mermaid and you're the girl. So if you leave me and find another...masseur...I'll cry for a thousand years."

That unease definitely wasn't just him.

Dean walked back into his sectioned off desk space, agonizingly slow, and shut the door to let Roman get dressed. When he came back, Roman was hunched over with a crooked smile playing on his lips.

"Feel better?" 

"Loads, thank you." Roman took another look around the little room. "That thing with the fingers totally worked, by the way."

"I'm glad it was useful. Umm, I'll walk you out, I'm not busy for another thirty minutes."

Dean escorted his client out, fighting off the bead curtains on the way to Lana's desk. He saw Cesaro's door cracked open and had a feeling the muscle-bound masseur was peeking at him inside, but he was going to let that slide for now. 

Roman signed out with Lana and waved Dean off. Lana was smiling big and wide and suggestive at him, and Roman returned with a casual smirk of his own.

"Catch you later..." she said, and it sounded so weird coming out of her mouth in that accent. 

On the drive home, Roman couldn't help himself smiling most of the way. Dean was definitely feeling him, therefore the chase was on. He couldn't wait. Dean was irresistibly cute and shy and Roman wanted to drag something wild out of him.

But as he pulled up into his driveway, another thought crossed his head that totally wiped out any feelings of unbridled lust that were starting to well up in his loins.

_I have to stop, I can't do that to him_

He thought of a lonely mermaid crying along the shore, surrounded by misshapen pearls and more spilling from her eyes. Dean was _too_ sweet and _too_ nice to be treated like an object of fascination. Roman wanted to get to know more about him...as a friend. Yes, he wanted to be his friend like Lana said he was. Today had to be the last day, he'd gotten out of control. He resigned himself to keep it cool and casual on their next appointment and week himself off. It would be best for both of them.


	3. Session #3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still can't believe I chucked Jericho in there just for Roman to be mad at someone lol. Don't worry, Jeribrose will live on!

Jimmy practically leaped over Roman's low cubicle wall and landed next to him screaming, scaring ten years off his young life at least.

"Why would you do that!" Roman yelled.

Jimmy just snickered and crouched down, hardly low enough to not be obvious considering how tall he was. Roman noted how awkward he looked in his khakis and dress shirt; Roman was so used to seeing him in shorts and jerseys he didn't think the man knew what slacks were. Roman, however, wore business casual quite well. He knew it, and all the women in the office knew it.

"Paige and 'nem told me to tell you we're going to the mall for lunch."

"We don't do that no more," Roman sang in a creaky falsetto. "Anyway, there's nothing I want in the food court. It's all garbage."

Jimmy shrugged. "Don't eat, just come on. You got an hour!"

Roman leaned forward to rest his head on his hands and contemplated. "Hmm...I guess."

"See you at twelve."

Jimmy sauntered away, leaving Roman alone to clack away until noon. He kept having flashbacks of his last massage visit that made him whole-body cringe and interrupted his concentration. Unfortunately, those flashbacks were also filled with different...scenarios. Steamy scenarios that took him right out of the game for hours at a time.

He shook his head again, viciously this time. It had been a month since his last visit, it was time to get over it. The visits were too expensive and time consuming, he'd told himself. It totally wasn't because he was dangerously close to a Happy Ending whenever Dean laid hands on him.

"Ugh."

He still remembered that touch, fingers dancing along his arms and releasing his tightened muscles. Even more so now that he was right back in pain again. At least with the winter weather, no one asked why he was huddled up in three cardigans and a blanket anymore, but the cold and moist air were bringing back old injuries while making new ones.

He grit his teeth in frustration and sighed. He was so _repressed_ it would almost be funny.

Noon came, and for good measure Jimmy came to drag him out of his seat. They clocked out together and headed for the parking lot. To Roman's surprise, Paige led them to the gaudy sports car that he knew for a fact belonged to the other department's supervisor Rusev.

"We can't all fit in there, can we?" Alicia, Paige's coworker, mused out loud.

"Roman and Jimmy will just have to sit on the trunk. Come on, it'll be like high school!"

Roman and Jimmy looked at each other warily.

"She crazy," Jimmy said.

"High school wasn't like this for me. It was all missing prom and football concussions."

"Don't nobody care about Roman's Bitter High School Memories."

Jimmy was already dragging Roman to the car and, with a little creative jostling, the two of them managed to squeeze in with the girls. Paige peeled out of the parking lot screaming like a banshee, and the ten minute trip to the mall somehow became two and a half and no speeding tickets.

The glitzy mall was mostly filled with people visiting from work, older couples browsing, and high school students playing hooky to stand around in Hot Topic all day. The group headed for the food court where pickings were indeed slim, and Roman made various faces of disgust at all of them. He slowly wandered away from the group as they split up to their preferred kiosks.

He was sitting at a table alone when he felt someone nudge his arm.

"Not hungry?" Paige asked, sliding into the seat across from him.

"Nah. I thought about a quick smoothie, but they use kale."

"Oh, gross. Let's do a little shopping, ay?"

"I'm broke."

"Too many massages?" Paige grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. Roman just snorted and forced a smile.

Paige grabbed his bicep and dragged him up--"come on, come on!"--and away from the food court and to the surrounding shops. There were the usual swanky high priced boutiques and a few pop up shops, and some rather over aggressive kiosk folks.

"Wanna look at shoes?" Roman asked.

Paige was hanging onto his arm for dear life. "Nooo...umm, oh, what's that place? Looks like a retro shop."

Roman knew Paige's love for all things vintage and quirky knew no bounds, so he steered himself over to the weird shop with a disco Elvis out front.

The store was rather brightly lit in contrast to the too-cool shops around it with darkened interiors. Paige finally let go of Roman to inspect the store a bit.

Roman wandered to the wall with shelves of vintage Coca Cola bottles and soap boxes, and at the end of the lowest shelf rested a box of trinkets that were still being added to the various displays. He bent down and started rummaging through the assorted items, careful to keep watch of time.

There was a variety of odds and ends, like polka dot hair bows and lipstick cases in fair condition. Gag glasses. He held on to a pair of pearl cufflinks for three bucks. He was at the bottom of the pile when he spied a pale white hand poking out from under some loose jumping jacks like a cry for help. He pulled and realized the hand was attached to something quite heavy; he pushed away the toys and debris around it and gave another firm but gentle tug.

Under the pile was a colorful figurine of a classical two-tailed mermaid, one hand over her head and another hand in a clutch position as if for a sword. And the sword would be plunging into the chest of the knight below her, splattered with blood. Roman covered his mouth in shock and excitement.

He picked up the figurine immediately and ran, nearly running into Paige as he rounded the corner.

"Look what I found!"

"Me first," Paige said. "Look! A medical corset!"

"I found a mermaid killing a dude."

Paige ran her hand along the figurine. "Oh my gosh. That's amazing! You gotta get it."

"Hell yeah I will. I...kinda feel like Dean would like something like this."

"Dean?" Paige wrinkled her nose. "Oh I'm sorry, did you mean 'baebae'?"

"Jimmy...he told you that didn't he."

The two of them leaned against the counter as the clerk rang up their individual purchases.

"No, Jimmy told Rusev who told me."

"Seriously, I'm quitting."

"Wow, that's awesome," the clerk interrupted. "That's a fancy ass pen holder."

"Really!"

"Yeah, the pen is the sword. How fun. Y'all take care."

Paige and Roman took their bags and left the store, bumping into Alicia and Jimmy on the way out.

"Oh good, our ride is here," Alicia said, grinning. "We got ten minutes."

"It'll take us five to leave," Jimmy cut in. "What's that?"

"Tell ya in the car," Roman said with an impish smile. "Race ya."

"Hey!"

The four of them tore out of the mall, laughing and howling, Alicia and Roman leading with Paige and Jimmy bringing up the rear. They crowded into the car far less neatly this time and sped back to work, clocking back in with a minute to spare.

"Could you keep it down," IT Dude Bray muttered from his office in his creepy monotone. "Other people work here, you know."

Paige rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated "shhh" that just made everyone laugh harder. Everyone split their separate ways, Roman taking his figurine back to his desk and Paige and Alicia heading upstairs. Jimmy quickly vanished into his secret IT Portal that allowed him to warp places in a moment's notice. 

Excitement and adrenaline were fueling his fluttering heart beat and stretching his lips into a smile so wide his face hurt. He couldn't carry that heavy thing around all day, after all.

After work, Roman got in his car, still giddy, and headed downtown. He hoped his discount was still in place because he really was broke until payday, but this would be worth it.

He pulled up in the driveway--they certainly had gotten busier--and parked. He grabbed his bag out of the trunk and strutted in like an act of God couldn't ruin his day.

Inside, Lana was at her desk scheduling another appointment. She looked up and grinned, waved him over to the desk.

"Roman!" she greeted cheerfully after her call was over. "Long time no see!"

"Yeah, well, life got in the way. Too busy for a walk in?"

"Hmm, I think I can get you in." Lana peeked down at her appointment book. "Dean's finishing with another customer, can you wait ten minutes or so?"

"Sure can."

"What's in the bag?"

Roman gave a secretive smile. "Lil present."

He sat down and waited patiently, bag on his bouncing knees. Time was dragging on painfully slow and his mouth was dry from taking deep breaths to calm his nerves.

The bead curtain rattled and a man with a sporty blonde cut and chiseled jaw fairly jogged out to the front desk. He looked like he belonged in a men's fitness magazine, not that Roman was any slouch himself, but this guy had that classic athlete look right down to his tennis polo and jeans. His eye twitched.

Dean came out behind him, all smiles and rubbing his hands down with a towel. The two of them were...close together, practically breathing each other's air. Dean leaned on Lana's desk, smiling in a way that he'd never done with _Roman_. chatting away with him and looking flustered.

It was stupid, he knew, it wasn't that big of a deal, but all the enthusiasm drained out of Roman through his finger tips accompanied by the 16bit notes of "Game Over" music. 

Roman watched them closely. The stranger was filling out his exit paperwork and took a paper cup of water. Dean was still chatting away with him eagerly, gripping his shoulder and tugging at his sleeves. Roman thought he was going to throw up. 

The gentleman was finally, finally on his way out, waving at Lana and Dean who apparently hadn't even noticed Roman still sitting there, now with a black cloud over his head. The man looked down at Roman and gave a small wave and mouthed, "bye", but thought better of it when Roman growled at him.

Dean finally saw him, still smiling, but it wasn't the same.

"Roman! Buddy! You came back to see me!" 

Roman snorted and got up. His double bundled bag weighed his hand down painfully as Dean ushered him past the bead curtain and into his room.

"So that's your type of guy, huh?" Roman snapped, confirming he had no chill left in him.

Dean looked at him perplexed, an invisible _?_ over his head.

"Who? Chris? That's my newest client."

"Ohh, so you replaced me with him."

Dean laughed but it was a little uncomfortable. "No! Who'd you replace _me_ with, huh? Ain't been around in a month, come back acting funny. You must be guilty." 

"Guilty?" Roman's face darkened and he moved in on Dean, backing him up against a wall with a creepy painting on a tree. That was new. "Guilty of what? You must be projecting on me."

Dean shrank then immediately straightened back up, puffing his chest out. His face was red and he was visibly shaking, but to his great relief his voice held steady. "Projecting? What're you talking about? You're the one projecting on me! What're you, jealous?"

"Hell no, unless I have something to be jealous of!"

"Then why are you mad!"

"I'm mad because it's been a month and some change, and I haven't fallen out of love with you yet!"

Roman blinked, a little confused. Did he really just say that out loud? Dean was still pressed against the wall, his anger also fading to confusion. Usually that did thesilence; like silence, admitting the crush made it go away, but this was...different. Now that it was out, he was searching Dean's eyes for a response. Would he laugh? Punch him or push him away? Not even acknowledge it? 

Dean's fingers felt like they were attached to the wall and he couldn't move them for a while. Finally, slowly, he raised his hands to rest them gingerly against Roman's chest. 

"That...was...really cheesy."

Roman let go of the breath he was holding and doubled over a little, laughing.

"Fuck, it was. I really wanted to be cooler than that." 

"I...don't have anything to say," Dean admitted, pressing his forehead against Roman's. "So you can look cooler in comparison." 

They stood together for a few minutes, Roman loosely draping his free arm around Dean's wait, the two of them swaying slightly. 

"So, what do we do now?" Dean asked.

"You can kiss me. Then I think you gotta rub my back or something."

"Okay, but...I gotta know what that thing is." 

It finally dawned on Roman that he was holding a rather weighty statue that was destined to fuck up his good arm next. He pulled back and quickly took the figurine out of both bags.

"You're gonna love this. You like pens?"

Dean cocked his head. "I mean, I guess?"

"It doesn't matter, look at this." 

Roman shirked off the brown wrapping paper and proudly presented the murderous mermaid figurine. Dean's eyes widened and he immediately grabbed it, rubbing his hands all over the textured surface.

"Oh my god, what is this! You got a mermaid killing a dude just for me?!" 

"Yeah, you can put pens in her hand."

Dean looked at Roman with wide, intense bright eyes. "I'm going to collect pens now. Only fancy ones. Like fountain pens and shit." 

Roman tried to contain his laughter, poorly. "I'm glad you like it."

"You deserve a back rub. Sit up."

Roman took off his shirt and sat on the table. Dean set the figurine on top of a cabinet then disappeared in his office for a moment, reappearing with a bottle of oil. He promptly drizzled it all over Roman's back, clearly pleased with how his skin glistened and glowed, and started working on the points he knew were painful for the other man first, releasing overworked nerves and muscles.

He pressed himself close, getting oil on the front of his shirt and his elbows, and placed a kiss on Roman's neck accompanied by a little static shock. Roman sat up and leaned into it, moaning when Dean slid his hands down his sides and then his front, down his abs first and back up to his chest. 

"Hey. Were you really jealous of Chris?" His warm breath tickled Roman's neck and sent a shiver down his spine.

"A little bit."

"A little bit?"

"I was real jealous. He was making you look all cute and shit."

Dean snickered and pressed forehead against Roman's shoulder blade. "You wanna make me look cute?" 

"Yesss?"

"Let's see you first..." 

Dean kissed Roman's nape again, then sucked the spot and ran his hands across his chest. He fingered the well-defined dips before lightly teasing his nipples, rubbing in circles. Then he tugged and rolled then, causing Roman to gasp sharply and jolt against him. Dean chuckled and walked to the front, then tilted Roman back a little to give himself access to his chest. 

Roman chuckled then gasped when Dean grabbed one of his nipples with his lips and sucked hard, then grazed with his teeth. His hands clenched the edge of the table and he was mildly horrified to realize his legs were spreading over their own accord to let Dean in closer.

"How do you feel?" 

"B-better than I did earlier." Roman threaded his finger through Dean's hair then gripped the back of his head as the other man continued, trailing a wet trail down his chest to his abdomen and finally looking up for permission to go lower. As Roman nodded, a loud buzzer went off, shaking them both out of their reverie. 

"Shit! It's been an hour?" 

Dean hopped up, muttering, and ran over to his egg timer. "Shit. Well, at least we know we need more than an hour for that."

Roman fetched his shirt off the floor. "Yeah. You're real slow."

"I like a lot of foreplay, okay? Oh, jeez. How's your shoulder feel? I'm so sorry."

Roman pulled his shirt on and jumped off the table. He stretched his arms and flexed, wincing a bit. "Still sore, but it's not that bad. I mean, you did half your job at least."

"Come on, I'm sorry for real. I owe you."

"You owe me tonight."

"Don't you have class?"

"I'm free as hell for you." Roman grinned and took out his cell phone. "Number." 

Dean looked at him blankly and pinkened. "I...do not own a cell phone. Or a land line." 

Roman stared at him a bit uncomprehendingly. "Do you...like, use carrier pigeon or something?"

"Yes." 

"I don't think my service covers that, but why don't you just give me your address." 

Dean scribbled his address on a sticky note and pressed it to Roman's head (Roman, naturally, wasn't going to bother taking it off). He pecked Roman's cheek and opened the door to escort him out. Rather, he tried, but he was encountering some interference in the form of the door being...stuck. He looked back at Roman who shrugged, then pushed the door again.

No. Not stuck. After another firm pull, Dean stood back and let the four bodies fall into the room. Lana was the first to get up, adjusting her skirt and already backing out.

"Dolph made me do it! I did not want to!" she yelled before running out. The other three--Dolph, the fiend, Cesaro, the henchman, and Titus, the bystander--had apparently knocked heads on the way down and were still laid out, groggy.

"I didn't make anyone do anything, I just gently encouraged," Dolph said.

"We're gonna get a reputation," Cesaro said, sounding dazed and far away. "But if we're that kind of place, maybe we'll get raises." 

Titus was already army-crawling his way out, his shirt dragging along the floor and exposing his skin to the cold tile. "Congratulations," he muttered.

Dean, meanwhile, was covering his face and trying not to explode from sheer embarrassment and how hard Roman was laughing behind him.

"Dolppphh..." he ground out, unable to really say anything else.

"I know what you're thinking," Dolph said, and managed to kip himself up unassisted. "I know what you're thinking, I'm a huge pervert that likes spying on you and your boyfriend. Would you believe me if I said I was just checking on you?" 

Dean shook his head.

"Okay, well. You crazy kids have fun. Get some water on the way out, Roman." 

Dolph finally took his leave, dragging Cesaro along with him. Roman wrapped his arms around stiff-as-a-statue Dean from behind and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck.

"I'll be over at seven. If you don't die from shame."


	4. Session #4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah it felt so good to get to this point. And then I was like "what if I wrote another part" which we'll get tooooo in a min.

Dean managed not to wither away from shame that night as he got ready for his "date". He didn't know what Roman had planned, but Dean knows for a fact he's not the smash n dash type so he was setting up the lousy kitchen table with silk flowers from the craft store.

Dolph certainly didn't let him live in squalor--well, he paid for the studio apartment himself but Dolph had found it. It was big and spacious with a beautiful view of the skyline, like something a painter would use. Dean didn't feel like he was worth it just yet, not even after two years of hard work.

So that evening view was something he tried not to dwell on, only focusing on the twin beams of light that were nearing the parking garage.

He rested his arm against the glass and smiled. He mouthed 'I love you' to the figure in black that was coming out of the garage and making his way up to him.

Even seeing all that, daydreaming about it, the buzz still scared the shit out of Dean; he whipped around and raced to the door like if he didn't answer right now the beautiful phantom just beyond it would disappear.

"Well hello there, mermaid," Roman quipped from behind a bouquet of flowers. Dean had no idea what they were but they were yellow and smelled like church.

"Hey yourself." Dean stepped back and let Roman in. He had changed into a casual V-neck and jean combo that highlighted his assets quite nicely and made Dean a bit stuffy under his own T-shirt collar.

He sighed wistfully.

"Hmm?"

"Eh?"

"You want me to throw these in the sink?"

"Nuh uh. I have a vase." Dean went to his kitchenette and looked through each cabinet until he found the translucent blue ombre vase. He rubbed the stubborn dust off and presented it proudly.

"Tah-day!"

"Ohh, you done this before?" Roman smirked and stuffed the flowers neatly into the vase.

"Yeah, this was all she gave me back."

Dean gave the flowers a prime spot on the glass table top and invited Roman to sit on the hand-me-down tweed couch.

Roman crossed one leg over the other and sank back. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. She even kept the pen." Roman chuckled in a way that signaled he wasn't following the joke. "Like _Say Anything_."

"Wait...really? I remember that movie. Really?"

"What?"

"You seriously don't look the type to watch romance films." Roman laughed at Dean's frown.

"Why not? I don't have cable, I gotta watch the shit that comes on one of these five channels. I've seen it a million times."

"Well." Roman scratched the bridge of his nose lightly and moved in closer. "Tell me more about you. Do you really come from the sea?"

Dean laughed harshly. "I come from a bad part of the ocean, man. I'm glad my line of work has been profitable so far because pretty sure I'd be dead by now."

Roman hummed and nodded, regarding Dean with a soft look that made his heart skip around dangerously.

"I'm glad you had lots of support to get you along this far."

"Yeah, well, it's not a hand out y'know?" Dean kneading his hands, suddenly self-conscious. "What about you? You really haven't said that much about yourself since that first time."

"I told you everything! I think I even told you my real hair color."

Dean's laugh bubbled up out of him from what was meant to be a polite snicker. "I wanna know everything about you. I mean it."

Roman moved in until their noses touched. "You gotta give info to get it."

Dean sighed. "Okay. I love cartoons. I hate scary movies. Et cetera."

The two of them fell slowly back onto the couch, Dean's arms thrown around Roman's neck and the other man's face pressed into his neck.

"I have a big family. I'm scared of orangutans."

"That's such a weird fucking fear, dude."

"Why is your heart beating so fast?"

Dean swallowed, just now noticing his mouth was dry. Roman's natural warmth was threatening to pull the truth out of him like someone released truth serum into the vents and nobody was immune.

"I'm...scared. What if we find out stuff about each other we don't like?"

"You a serial killer?" Roman started to chuckle but it died when he saw the discomfort in Dean's face.

"What if..." Dean shifted his gaze downward. "You don't like me? Because I'm fucked up? How do I make you stay?"

Roman blew a wayward strand of hair out of his face. "Do you want me to be honest? It might make you kick me out."

Dean nodded his head. "Please."

"My relationship track record sucks. I left you that month because I was scared if I got anymore involved I'd hurt you, too. But when I almost hulked out on ol Chris for looking at you, I didn't think I could walk off so easily."

Dean smiled and kissed Roman's tattooed bicep.

"Seriously, I don't think you can make me stay, I think I'm just...gonna." Roman laughed a little. "I'd rather tell you the truth than...lie."

"You're amazing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Dean ran a couple of fingers up Roman's arm to the top of his shoulder. "All that is usually my line, except for the emotional vulnerability and raw honesty. Usually I just get pissed at myself then run off into the night."

"Ohh, okay. So when you try to bullshit me I can check ya."

"Yeah." Dean blinked as the epiphany hit him. "Yeah, that's exactly it."

The two of them sat up and stretched in unison.

"But you shouldn't have run off." Dean suddenly thwacked Roman's good arm. "I expect better of you now. I was so depressed I nearly cried pearl tears."

Roman chuckled then ruefully, "I'm sorry."

"I mean it. I thought I had fucked up without even noticing and...and I just assumed you found someone else. I...was jealous of fucking phantoms, man."

"You too?"

"There's always someone better."

"There certainly is..." Roman muttered, then shushed any further conversation with a kiss full of longing. 

Dean's mouth trembled against his as Roman brazenly slid his tongue in to taste him, savor it, brought him closer by the scruff of his neck like they were going to mesh into one being. Dean immediately ran his hands under Roman's shirt and across his back, clutching at skin that was already a little damp with sweat. 

Roman took advantage of the fact that Dean was awkwardly sitting on his knee with a very obvious hard-on; he smirked and nudged just enough to send Dean skittering and moaning, grinding his hips into him.

"Bed?"

"Noo, not yet..." 

Roman flipped Dean's shirt up to his neck, revealing his chest. His fingers plucked and pulled at the exposed nipples, with none of the coy shyness Dean had displayed earlier. Dean winced and cried out; his chest wasn't particularly sensitive but Roman's rough touches were going straight to his head and his crotch. 

Roman abruptly stopped his teasing and brought Dean's shirt back down. He leaned in close to let his words drift into Dean's ear.

"Payback for earlier. I had to go home like that, you know?"

He tugged the shirt so the fabric just brush against the aroused buds on Dean's chest; the other man visibly shuddered.

"Y-you live alone right?" Dean stammered.

"Yeah, so I could beat off for an hour thinking about everything I'm gonna do in a minute."

Dean shuddered again and let Roman pull him along towards his bedroom like the most obvious place in the world, like he'd been there many times before.

His room was dark and predictably messy for a bachelor, sheets strung all over the place and spare clothes taking up much of the floor space. The two of them laughed as they played hopscotch over everything in the floor and landed on the bed in a tangle of arms to continue their kiss.

Roman pulled his shirt off first and added it to the growing pile, then Dean flung his off and started on his pants. Roman didn't give him much breathing room as he chased his hands with his mouth, kissing every inch of exposed flesh he could as it was revealed, until his hands were wrapped around muscular thighs. His head was just below the slick cock that had slapped against Dean's stomach and he was devoting all his attention to the balls and sensitive inner flesh until Dean was quaking and moaning with need.

"Roman...ah fuck, please..." Dean was stretching and not-so-subtly pulling himself up to Roman's lips. The other man just chuckled and locked eyes with him.

"Yesss?"

"You gonna make me beg?"

"Hmm..." Roman licked the well of bitter fluid that topped off his dick. "Maybe I believe in instant gratification."

He descended slowly until he took almost the whole length in, and what he couldn't he wrapped his fist around and stroked in time. He pulled back and teased the tip again with his tongue before diving back down and swirling his tongue around the shaft.

Dean looked trapped somewhere between pleasure and desperation, unable to move but needing to move but wanting to prolong the feeling forever. Everything faded away as he climaxed, finally thrusting into the wet heat of Roman's mouth and sinking onto the bed in relief. 

Roman swallowed noisily and kissed a trail back up Dean's torso to crush their lips together in a wet, salty kiss.

"Mm, up to some freaky shit on the first date?" Dean said when they pulled apart.

"As my cousin would say." Roman's face fell. "Was I too much?"

A devious look that was out of place thus far and yet so right settled onto Dean's face. "We ain't even done nothin yet. Lay back."

Dean rolled up to his knees and nearly shook Roman out of his own jeans. He slapped Roman's bare thighs and raised them to his waist level.

Roman's eyes were wide with anticipation and shock. He was about to mention condoms and lube when Dean dropped down to lay down flat, head positioned at his ass.

Dean adjusted Roman's legs around his shoulders. "Comfortable?"

Roman only nodded and adjusted himself a little more. The first lick around his anus took him by surprise, but by the time Dean shoved his tongue in he was moaning nonstop with his hands gripping the man's hair. 

"That's louder than when I rubbed your arm that first time," Dean said, muffled. His tongue delved deep to taste his lover, thrusting in and out like his hips _wanted_ to do, but...later.

He saw one of Roman's hands drop and grip the sheets and he was bucking harder, faster in an erratic rhythm. Dean sat up and spit in his palm, gripped Roman's cock already slick with his own fluids. Leaned in as close as he could while his hand brought his lover to orgasm.

"You do look pretty cute when you come," he breathed as the shudders wracking Roman's body died down. 

"So...do you..."

They gently knocked heads and pressed their cheeks together. Dean laid on his side and trailed a hand down Roman's neck.

"Mouthwash." He rolled off the bed into his feet and headed for the bathroom. "I'll be back."

"Mm."

Dean picked up the mouthwash off the counter from memory and turned the sink on. He gargled the bitter stuff for a a minute then spat, followed by water. Then he turned the tap off and came back into the room expecting to see his Samoan God laid out before him, but Roman was...missing.

_Please don't say I picked now to be an extremely lucid dreamer_ , his fevered mind said as he hunted through the bed sheets.

Some clanking from the kitchen caught his attention. He bounded off the bed and ran straight for the kitchenette, his mind already imagining incredibly stealthy cat burglars. Instead, he was greeted with Roman looked through his fridge with a skillet in his hand.

Dean sat down, dumbfounded.

"Just...make yourself at home, man."

Roman raised up with three eggs. "I fucking live here already. You deserve breakfast after that. Like right now. You went to the trouble of decorating then eating my ass, shame to let it go to waste."

Dean thought he was going to melt into a puddle where he sat. Roman grabbed some cheese and veggies and set about whipping them both up some omelettes. Dean wasn't even going to mention that he hated omelettes because it didn't matter at all right now.

"I...love you."

Roman just turned his head and smiled.

"Plates are right over you."

"Ooh, stoneware."

Roman plated the eggs and slid Dean his with a fork neatly on top. They ate in a comfortable silence punctuated by the clinging of forks.

"I know you gotta work tomorrow but...can you stay? Until morning?"

"I told you I live here."

Dean ducked his head when he started blushing. "Let's watch the sun come up." He felt a warm hand cover his and looked up to see Roman smiling serenely.

"Of course."

Dean cradled the hand and kissed it, willing morning to come faster so he could see the glow of orange and purple on Roman's face right now, yet praying the sun would slow down so this moment could last just a while longer.

"And dusk, and another sunrise after that, and another..."


	5. Roman's Bitter High School Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This comes from a few running jokes in the main story, mainly Roman's name and that for some reason I decided that he didn't have a great time in school. And maybe I just wanted to write Jimmy Uso some more? If hints of cousin-crushes bother you in the slightest this may not be for you.
> 
> Includes casual homophobia, cultural struggles, high school clique feels, and a bonus Seth Rollins.

"I been meaning to ask," Dean said, propping his legs up on Roman's knees. On top of his owns rested a bowl of popcorn. "Roman. Is that a family name?"

Roman grabbed the remote and pulled up the Netflix menu. He had never been more hyped for movie night in his apartment. "Uh, nope. Made it up one day."

"Wait. Is that not...your name?"

Roman laughed; Dean's confused face was cute as hell. "I had, like...an identity crisis in high school so I changed my name. My actual name is Leati."

"Oh. Can I...call you that?"

"Sure, but don't say it five times in a mirror."

Dean snickered and then dropped into a contemplative silence. Roman flicked through several screens looking for something cheesy yet not dumb to watch.

"Can I ask exactly...what happened?"

"Hm? My name? I don't know, I was just...man. Remind me to get Jimmy to tell you about my bitter high school memories."

Dean had met Jimmy a month ago and the two of them immediately became play brothers; if Jimmy was telling the story Dean was fully prepared to laugh himself nuts.

"I think he's still shopping around a TV series for all the shit I went through. Starring himself."

"Please call Jimmy right now."

"I will not. Now shut up before I put The Care Bear movie on."

Dean hushed himself and sank into the couch as their chosen Date Night movie came on.

~~~

"Uhh, why do you sign your little journal entries as 'Roman'?"

"The better question is why the hell are you reading my journal!"

Roman snatched his notebook back and hit his brother for good measure.

He had gone through a couple of different names before finally settling on this one. By the time middle school was over, he was pretty done with teachers and students alike fucking his name up like it wasn't pronounced exactly how it looked. It wasn't fair that Matt got to have a normal name and he...didn't.

So on the first day of freshman year, as his homeroom teacher came down the aisles checking student names, he blurted, "Roman" and it felt pretty natural.

"Is that your preferred name?" the teacher asked skeptically. Roman nodded vigorously.

"Please."

It just sounded so much cooler and bolder, what he was attempting to reshape his identity as from Token Quiet Kid. And now it was junior year and, truth be told, he was kind of over the name thing--he didn't care if people called him Roman or Leati anymore, the problem was except for very close friends and family he was stuck now.

"That kind of hurts dad's feelings, you know?"

That was the other reason he was over it: he and Sika, his dad, had a falling out about the whole thing. Sika insisted Roman was acting ashamed of his culture; Roman disagreed, but did realize he was being a selfish dickhead about it. They reconciled, but again Roman was...stuck.

As he left the room, Matt casually said, "Good to see you writing bout your lil girlfriend...thought you were gay for a minute."

~~~

As it turned out, Roman was gay. A little? Maybe a lot. He just hadn't come out yet, at least not to his family. Well, his Californian cousins Jimmy and Jey knew.

After Matt finally moved out of the house, cousin Jimmy had decided to take his place as Annoying Ass Relative. His twin brother Jey was quiet like Roman, and really Roman preferred to hang out with him. But Jimmy wouldn't let them just hang together. Like, ever.

Case in point, the fishing trip. Freshman year, winter break. Literally everyone had gotten used to "Roman" at this point except Jimmy, who insisted on calling Roman "Ain't".

"What does that even mean?"

"You ain't Leati but you ain't Roman either."

Roman couldn't let Jimmy distract him from catching fish. He and Jey were working in tandem, mirroring their fathers together in the second boat. Jimmy, meanwhile, was chilling in the back of the boat with his headphones on.

"Catch a gator," he said.

"There's no gators out he--"

"Whoa, got something!"

Roman leaped into action with the net; Jey fought with the leviathan at the end of the line before it flew and flopped into the boat. Roman hit the thing more out of self-preservation and surprise then bagged it, still wriggling with the will to live.

"Heeeey!" Their fathers were cheering them on from the other boat and coming closer.

Jey and Roman gave each other satisfied smiles; Jimmy was white as a sheet behind them.

The five foot catfish beast lurched one more time and Roman found himself sinking under the weight of someone grabbing him. He looked over and saw Jimmy holding on to his arm for dear life.

"It's gonna kill us!"

Roman attacked the thing with his foot a few more times until it finally went still. He wiped sweat and water off his brow but Jimmy still held fast.

"Um, I'm okay too," Jey said.

The two boats docked and Sika and Solofa carried the fish off to gut; Roman declined but Jimmy was oddly interested.

"Jey, you too?"

"Nope."

Jimmy grabbed Roman in a bear hug and kissed his ear.

"Thanks for saving my life!"

Roman and Jey sat in their boats, alone, finally.

"That was so awesome," Roman said with a goofy grin.

"Yeah, man. That catfish gonna feed us for forty days and nights." He stretched out and laid back, letting his fingers dangle in the water.

~~~  
The next week of vacation, Roman and Jey were alone again in the backyard.

"Can I tell you something?" Jey said, fanning gnats away.

"Shoot."

"You got really buff all a sudden."

"Dad made me play football."

"Dope. Can I say something else? Even if it makes you mad?"

"Yeeeah?"

"I think Jimmy likes you. Like. Like-like."

Roman paused then nodded solemnly. "That...would explain a lot. Where is he, anyway?"

"In the house. Are you grossed out?"

"I mean, like. I am but I'm not. Mostly I just wish he'd stop being a dick."

"I feel that."

The patio door slammed and Jimmy in all his cargo short glory stormed outside, carrying Roman's notebook. Before Roman could kill him, Jimmy slammed it in his chest and forced him back down in the lawn chair.

"I-I don't like you like that! Don't nobody give a shit about your biceps and long, luxurious hair!"

Jey snickered and rolled over in his seat. "It's okay man, he said he's not even mad."

"I read it in your little book of fairy tales. He probably don't mind because he's gay himself."

Jey's eyes widened. Roman groaned; so they weren't going to talk about how fucked up this invasion of privacy was or Jimmy being a hypocrite considering his mildly incestuous crush. No, this was suddenly about Roman kissing his first boy.

He slapped his face with his hands.

But after that vacation, something...weird happened. Jimmy stopped being an asshole. He helped Roman with homework he didn't understand, either over the phone or when he was in town. He opened up more. He became...nice. Roman was never sure what, exactly, humbled him but he secretly hoped it was a body slam from Jey.  
~~~  
Sika, a stunt actor and trainer, wanted his boys to be athletic too. He enlisted Matt in wrestling and Roman in football.

Matt did just fine in wrestling; Roman did okay to average in football but he kept with it to make amends about the whole name thing.

He got his first concussion his junior year. The locker room treated his glossy eyed stares like popping his cherry.

Roman quickly learned how to play straight and by senior year he was a Nice Jock--that is, the subset of jock that hung out with popular kids and outcasts alike. His latest acquisition to the ark was resident emo kid Seth...excuse him, Tyler. Or maybe Nyxx. Roman could definitely relate to changing one's name every season, but he was concerned that Seth might literally have more than one personality.

Case in point, Roman had finally mustered up the courage to ask a girl to prom. She was very pretty, nice, and mid-level popular. Most importantly, she was okay with going as friends.

The big night was coming up. Roman had made all his plans and picked up his rental suit early, now he just had to get through the school day. Why was prom on a Thursday this year anyway?

"Student council sell outs," Seth had muttered at lunch. He poked at a piece of garlic bread.

"Money?"

"Likely. So, you're finally taking your seat at the pantheon on cool kids huh."

Roman rolled his eyes. Seth was rather...dramatic.

"Even goth kids like prom," he reminded him.

"Those kids aren't real goth!"

"They wear black." Roman said, mildly offended for his goth friends.

"Well, anyway. Hope ya have fun and try not to forget me."

"It's just one night, man."

Seth whacked him over the head with his now empty, hard plastic tray...and that was the last thing he remembered before blacking out, waking up to Sika and Matt hovering over him in his room.

"Wh-what?" he slurred groggily.

"Doctor said you got concussed again. How do you feel, son?"

"Like...terrible. What the hell--I mean heck." Roman attempted to sit up twice before he gave up. "Oh god. Prom."

"I'll pay for your suit rental, but...needless to say you ain't going nowhere."

Roman groaned. Later that night Seth called sobbing hysterically, telling Roman how much he hated himself and he was sick and terrible and terrible and sick and jealous and Roman must hate him too.

"I don't hate you," Roman said, cutting through the emo kid's blubbering. Because he really didn't. It was an incident in a long string of high school awfulness. Things would get better, he would find a cute boyfriend and have a house with a cat one day. Maybe two cats, he just needed to get out of high school.  
~~~

Roman blinked out of his memories. He hadn't been paying a damn lick of attention to the movie but Dean was also snoring away in his lap.

Hmm. Cute boyfriend, check. House, not yet. But Seth worked at the animal shelter so maybe he could get hooked up with a cat now. Two out of three ain't bad.


End file.
